


Positivity Day

by MizuLeKitten



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Gen, Sick!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11255061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizuLeKitten/pseuds/MizuLeKitten
Summary: Lance wakes up sick, and tries to go through his day despite the fact. It does not end well for him, luckily his friends are there to help.





	Positivity Day

Lance could feel it from the moment he woke up that today was going to be a _long_ day. His head had felt hazy, and his throat scratchy, as he went through his morning routine. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he ended up forgoing his morning skin routine when he noticed the time. He did _not_ want to be late to professor Kolivan’s lecture, again.

Lance’s mood brightened upon seeing the waffles waiting for him. Hunk really did spoil him rotten. He took a bite and immediately regretted it. It tasted amazing, as usual, but the feeling of the food going down his throat _hurt._ He was grateful, truly was, but he barely got through one waffle before giving up, the pain in his throat too great.

Lance knew he was going to regret not eating. It’d make him feel even worse as time went on, he knew, but he just couldn’t stomach it. He could try and make something else, but he didn’t have the time or energy to go about making anything. He really didn’t want to go to class...

He had to go though, he had two lectures and a lab, and he couldn’t miss them. Hunk had already left for his morning lecture, so it wasn’t like staying home would be fun. Not to mention Iverson would definitely chew him out if he missed another lab.

With a sigh, Lance willed himself to at least put the dishes next to the sink. He’d wash them later, he reasoned.

~*~

 _Not worth it,_ Lance’s mind screamed at him. _Not freaking worth it!_

All through his first lecture he could barely focus. The haziness in his head had turned into a persistent static buzz, and it was growing by the second. He tried resting his head on the desk, but could feel his eyes begin to droop shut as sleep tried to claim him. Thus, every second was a test of will to keep his eyes from falling shut, and trying to ignore the pounding in his head.

He looked down at his notes, maybe focusing on that would help him stay awake. His eyes went in and out of focus causing his head to spin as his eyes tried to focus on something, anything, on his page. When his eyes finally did focus he frowned. What had he even been trying to write? It was a mass of scribbles that rivaled Pidge’s chicken scratch.

Lance fought back a groan that only made his throat more angry with him. How could he be asked to _talk_ when just breathing made his throat ache? He loved his classes, and he loved contributing to them, but today he could barely utter a single word.

“You look like shit.” Lance whipped his head up, head screaming at him, as he searched for the person addressing him before landing on large, round glasses, and a mess of brown hair.

“Hey, Pidge.” He rasped out. His throat screamed out against talking.

“You sound like shit too.” Pidge looked him up and down with a critical eye. “Up all night watching telenovelas?”

Any other day, Lance would take that as an invitation to go off about his favorite shows, or what had happened recently in whichever show, but as of now it was too much energy.

“Nope,” he glanced around the room, where was everyone?

“Class ended, dork.”

Oh, he said that out loud.

“Yeah, you did.” Pidge gave him another once over. “Maybe you should head home? You’re not normally this,” she waved her hand around, searching for a word, “ditzy.”

Lance got up, grabbing the table for support when his head swam. “No can do, Pidgey. Got Iverson today, can’t miss it.”

“If you’re sure...” Pidge replied uncertainly.

“100%” Lance said, gathering up his stuff and shoving it into his bag. He looked at his notebook and cringed. Indecipherable scribbles. He had _nothing_ to show for suffering through the lecture. He shoved it into his bag along with his other books, not wanting to dwell on it.

“Come on, then. I’m hungry, and Keith’s paying for my lunch today.” Pidge turned and began walking down the aisles of the lecture room.

“How’d you manage that?” Lance hiked his bag over his shoulder, wincing at the rawness of his throat.

Pidge turned back and grinned, too intimidating for someone so small. Lance decided he didn’t want to know.

~*~

Everything else was a whirlwind as they all met up, placed their orders, and sat down to eat. Lance stared down at his hamburger in thinly veiled disgust. He had skipped breakfast, he should be hungry, ravenous if anything. Instead the sight of the greasy food just set his stomach on edge.

Lance forced down a bite anyways, wincing at the pain in his throat. He was so focused on forcing down another bite that he hadn’t realized that everyone had stopped talking and was staring at him.

“Lance?” Hunk reached over and waved his hand in front of Lance’s face. He did _not_ squeak.

“What?” Lance looked around the table at his friends’ concerned faces.

Shiro shared a glance with Keith. “You okay? You haven’t said anything this whole time.”

“You also have been staring at your food like it personally offended you or something.” Keith added.

“He was acting strange during the lecture too.” Pidge said. “He said he was fine, but…”

“Guys, guys, I’m fine. Seriously.” Lance raised his hands in a placating gesture, doing his best to ignore the way his throat constricted painfully.

“He still doesn’t sound good either.” Pidge looked to Lance.

“I’m going to bring him back to the apartment.” Hunk said, as he stood up.

“I’m fine-” Lance felt nausea overtake him and he hunched over forward, groaning in pain.

“I don’t think so, buddy. Let’s get you home okay?” Hunk said, a hint of sarcasm to his voice, as he hefted Lance up, supporting him with his arm.

“Do you need help?” Shiro asked, already moving to stand.

“Yeah, no. Last time Lance got hurt you carried him over your shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes.” Keith grabbed Shiro’s sleeve, tugging him back down into his chair.

Shiro deflated, slouching down in his seat with a pout. “It was one time…”

The others couldn’t help but to laugh at that, only to be brought back to the situation when Lance groaned loudly, still clutching his stomach.

“Yeah, please get him out of here before he pukes.” Pidge moved her tray away from them.

“Seconded.” Keith grimaced.

“This reminds me of back when me and Alfor attended Altea University. If i remember right it was finals week, and-” Coran piped up.

“That’s nice, Coran, but I really need to get Lance back.” Hunk interrupted, already trying to drag Lance away from the table. Coran frowned, displeased at the interruption.

“We’d love to hear the rest of the story though,” Allura piped up, “wouldn’t we?” She looked around at the others, daring them to challenge the statement.

“Do we?” Keith asked, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. We do.” Allura shot a look before turning back to Coran.

Hunk shifted Lance’s weight, so that he could support more of it as he walked away from the group. It didn’t hit him until later that he didn’t pay for his and Lance’s tab.

~*~

Getting back to the apartment had been an adventure. They had to stop several times to let Lance catch his breath. He refused every time Hunk offered to carry him, stating that he wasn’t a baby. If Hunk didn’t know that Lance was sick before then that would’ve been the indicator. Lance loved being carried around, whether it be by him and Shiro, or the rare times he got Allura or Keith to carry him. Lance refusing was plain out of character.

Not to mention they had to stop twice for Lance to dry heave into some bushes. Luckily nothing actually came up. Hunk, much to everyone’s surprise, could handle vomit easily. He puked all the time, he better be used to it by now. That didn’t mean he _liked_ it when he or his friends had to puke. He’d rather they didn’t.

Just to be on the safe side, when they got back to the apartment Hunk placed a trash can near Lance’s bed, well within reaching distance if Lance needed it.

“I’ll get you some soup. Maybe that’ll go down easier than lunch did.” Hunk said as he wrapped Lance up in a blanket burrito. He knew that Lance liked being wrapped up when he didn’t feel good, whether it be from being physically sick, or homesick.

“Hunk?” Hunk stopped what he was doing and looked down at Lance. His usual tan complexion had taken on a gray tint, and Hunk mentally berated himself for not noticing sooner.

“Yeah?” Hunk said, instead of apologizing for not noticing Lance was sick sooner.

“I love you, man.” It was a mumble, as Lance’s eyes drifted shut.

“Love you too, buddy.” Hunk smiled and gave a kiss to Lance’s forehead.

It was going to be a long day. Lance wouldn’t stay mushy feely for long, he was bound to start complaining soon. The complaints would make his throat hurt more and make eating certain foods more difficult. Knowing Lance he’d also get bored and try to get out of bed, only to mollified by movies and cuddles. With a fond sigh Hunk made his way to the kitchen.

Might as well get started on the soup.

**Author's Note:**

> Lance did end up trying to leave bed, and forced Hunk to cuddle with him while they watched movies.  
> Hunk then woke up the next day with Lance’s cold.  
> Coran ended up arriving later with his All Cold Cure, the green goop, and they regretted everything.


End file.
